Did you miss me?
by moriarty's-tardis
Summary: Mormor fanfic. Jim Moriarty returns and Sebastian Moran, after three years of grieving, is furious. Mormor. male/male. from BBC sherlock. (Moran isn't exactly in the show but he is a popular character from the books.)
1. Chapter 1

Did you miss me?

momor fanfic

m/m rated T

Sebastian Moran stormed down the vast hallway of the building. He used his exclusive key card to go up the private elevator. He slammed the card into the slot with vigor. He was furious. At one person in particular. When he got out of the elevator and navigated his way to his boss's office. He took a deep breath before shoving the door open and letting it bang against the inside wall.

There he was. Just sitting there in his office chair, filling out papers at his desk. It was a large desk covered with different papers and electronic devices. Moran would look more closely at these devices later, after he was done killing his boss. His boss, who meant the world to him, though he would never admit it to anyone who asked. The one he would guard with his one who's death Moran grieved for three years.

Jim Moriarty.

"Everyone" Moran declared angrily.

Jim glanced up at him with an amused smile teasing his lips.

"Hello Seb."

"Everyone," Moran continued, ignoring him. "In the entire world, knew you were alive before I did."

Jim set down his pencil. Moran stood there in a state of shock, still unbelieving that Jim was sitting right there.

He started to walk towards the desk.

"Is my little Seb jealous?"

Moran slammed his fist on the desk.

"Oh no! You are not just going to joke your way out of this one. Three years! Three years and you didn't you tell me."

Jim just smiled,

"Surprise."

Moran's assassin instincts kicked in as he rounded the table. He grabbed Jim's neck and shoved him to the wall, his vision red with anger. Jim struggled to breathe but refused to give up his act.

"Oh, you know I love it when you take control like that."

Moran's hands were shaking. He was not amused by Jim's flirty comments, he was too busy being blindingly furious.

"Is everything a joke to you?"

Jim stopped smiling.

"Put me down, Seb." He demanded. Moran did as he was told.

Jim coughed and straightened his suit.

"I had to disappear. You think I wanted this? I had to stay dead or the Holmes boys would have found me. Sherlock already toppled most of my criminal base but he missed some crucial bits. I would have told you, but I was afraid you would say something… indiscreet."

"You thought I would- IM A BLOODY ASSASSIN! MY JOB IS TO PROTECT YOU!" Moran yelled, fuming.

Jim just stared, unflinching.

"How?" Moran asked, breaking the silence.

"How, what?"

"How did you survive?"

Jim didn't respond. He just reached his hand up to Moran's face. His soft skin, brushing against the light stubble. Moran had missed this. He had felt so empty at his lover's absence.

"I love you." Jim said. Moran was shocked. Jim never said that to him before; it had just been implied. Moran would have smiled if he wasn't such a stoic person.

"And I, you."

Jim gave a small, flirty smile. Everything about Jim had an edge of danger, including his smile. Moran seemed to be attracted to danger.

Jim, being the shorter one, reached up and spoke softy against Moran's lips.

"Did you miss me?" he said teasingly, in a different tone then he had used when revealing himself to the world.

"Oh god yes." Moran said, before putting his lips to Jim's for the first time in years. Moran's hands grabbed Jim's hips and Jim's hands gripped the back of Moran's neck, bringing them as close together as possible. Moran pushed Jim backwards, and lifted him up onto the desk, not breaking the kiss. Now that they were at the same height, it was easier to get a better angle. Moran tilted his head slightly and allowed Jim to infiltrate his mouth. Jim's hands made their way to the bottom of Moran's shirt and rucked it up, his hands pressing into Moran's warm back. Moran made a noise in the back of his throat and brought his hands up to the back of Jim's neck. He gripped Jim tight and brought them impossibly closer. He felt the small hairs on the back of Jim's neck and scratched lightly with his fingernails. Jim purred.

"ahem?" said a voice from the doorway. It was one of the security officers who looked extremely uncomfortable walking in on them.

"Leave now or I will have Moran kill you." Jim instructed angrily and out of breath. The man looked frightened.

"but-"

Moran pulled a gun out of his belt gracefully and aimed it at him. The man ran out the door.

"Now what were we doing?" Jim asked, his fingers tracing Moran's lips.

"you were filing papers and I was yelling at you." Moran said cheekily.

"You're funny Seb, maybe that's why I keep you around." Jim said sarcastically.

Moran leaned in, their noses touching, their lips almost touching. Jim's eyelids fluttered a bit.

"Yeah, maybe thats why." Moran said with the faintest of smiles.

Jim, uncharacteristically, waited for Moran to close the gap, instead of closing it himself. Moran leaned in ever so closely, Jim could feel the faint brush of Moran's lips and closed his eyes- then Moran backed up and adjusted his coat and belt.

Jim sat there, spluttering.

"Sebastian, what the fu-"

"You have papers to file and I have people to kill." he said, making sure his gun was correctly its holster. Jim glared.

"Is this punishment for the past three years?" Jim inquired. Moran nodded.

"This is only the beginning of your punishment."

"Oh? and whats the rest?"

"Imagine this: no sex."

"What!?"

"You heard me."

"Sebastian, you cent be serious."

"I am. You let me grieve your death for three years, I am not giving you simple pleasures anymore."

Jim's eyes narrowed and his mouth turned up into a smirk.

"We will see how long you can last on that promise." Jim teased. Moran didn't react.

"Ive had three years to practice." he said grimly. Jim's smile dropped, seeing that Moran was serious. Jim had thought that Sebastian would have embraced his return with happiness, not expecting things to be so tense and uncomfortable between them. He hadn't anticipated that his absence would have affected Moran so harshly.

"Sebastian, I-"

"You don't need to say anything." Moran interrupted. He turned to walk out the door, but paused halfway, stating, "Ill be home late tonight. Dont wait up for me." He walked out the door.

Jim's heart sped up. Home? He was coming home? That old little flat, with burn marks on the walls and bullet holes in the doors. For the first time in three years, Moran called it home. This was excellent news.

Sleeping by himself was one of the worst things Jim had to endure while hiding from the world. Waking up in cold sweat from his frequent nightmares and having no warm, strong arms to hold him and help him fall back asleep. Having no one to bother and complain to when something didn't go according to plan. Jim had occasionally set the table for two out of habit, just to sit across from an empty seat and an empty plate. Home. Sebastian was coming home. Jim sat back down at his desk, picking up his pencil once more, hoping that things could go back to the way they used to be.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this fanfic! It was fun to write, considering these characters are very different than other characters I've written about. I just became obsessed with Mormor this week so I did a lot of "research" on their personalities to make this as accurate as I possibly could. Im thinking of writing another chapter but I'm waiting for a spark of inspiration. You can leave your thoughts in the comments! thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Moran walked gingerly through the front door of his flat, careful not to make too much noise. He glanced at the clock that was visible from the laminated kitchen. 4:26 am. He sighed, hoping he would fall asleep right away and cure his exhaustion.

He walked to his bedroom door. It was slightly ajar. He pushed it open the rest of the way, hoping it wouldn't creak. The glow from the light in the kitchen made it easier for Moran to see. There was a jacket slung over the chair at his desk, and someone else's clothes folded neatly on the hutch at the end of his bed.

He walked over to his bed and stopped abruptly when he saw the outline of a body and the rise and fall of a breathing chest. Moran's eyes softened. Jim, in his bed for the first time in three years, it was almost too good to be true.

He stripped down to his boxers, like always, and climbed into bed. The covers were warm and inviting. He reached over and enveloped Jim in his arms. Jim snuggled closer, not waking up. Moran smiled. Jim's head was between Moran's shoulder and his head, his back resting against Moran's front and his torso being held by Moran's strong arms.

Jim muttered one of Moran's many nicknames in his sleep, causing Moran to hold him tighter. He drifted off to sleep in a state of pure comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

It was about 7:30 when Jim woke up. He felt arms around him and jumped, about to figure out the best means of killing his intruder, but then he realized it was Moran. He relaxed. Moran had come back late the previous night. Jim had tried to stay up and wait but he was too tired and his headaches had returned.

"Seb?" Jim received a mumble in reply.

"If you little-spoon me again I will tear your pretty little arms off." Jim said sweetly. Moran ignored this threat and held him tighter.

"No you won't, you enjoy this too much." Moran mumbled from behind him. He sounded exhausted, making Jim wish he had let him sleep longer.

Jim turned over so he was facing him. He leaned up and kissed Moran on the lips. Moran smiled and kissed him a few times.

"You know, we are lying down. One of the benefits of that is," Moran grabbed Jim's shoulders and pulled him up so Jim's face was across from his. "We can be the same height." Jim smiled and kissed him, bringing his free hand up to Moran's hair. The other, cupped Moran's face, holding him in place. Moran put his hands to Jim's back, rucking up his night shirt and rubbing circles on his lower back.

When they parted, Moran saw the lust in Jim's eyes and stopped touching him immediately. He opened the covers and got up.

Jim blinked in surprise that he would stop so abruptly. He saw Moran's lean and strong figure and wished he would come back to bed. Moran put on a robe and went into the kitchen to make breakfast. Jim grunted, turning onto his back. This whole "no pleasure" business was becoming annoying and unsatisfying. But he was a killer, a criminal, a powerful man with the means to topple the world around him, he didn't need Moran to satisfy him. He didn't need pleasure from another human being. Since when was he so reliant on affection? Moran has changed him, made him softer.

But was that a bad thing?

Jim rubbed his eyes and stayed in bed until a familiar scent wafted into the room.

Smoke. Fire.

"Sebastian."

His eyes shot open as he ripped off the bed sheets. He ran into the kitchen only to find Moran burning some toast. His back was facing Jim, hunched over and trying to get the burnt bread out of the toaster. He burned his finger, muttering, "shit." Before running it under cold water.

Jim's heart rate refused to slow down. So many nights- Countless nights Jim had nightmares. Most of them were about Moran dying in horrible, nasty ways.

Jim sunk to the ground, brought his hands to his face and put his head through his legs. He felt ill.

Moran turned around at Jim's movement. As soon as he saw him, his eyes narrowed and his mouth turned down to a frown. He wiped his finger with a towel and set the toast on the counter quickly, before walking over to Jim.

"Jim? Jim, are you alright?"

Jim refused to open his eyes or show his face. He was shaking visibly, thoroughly mortified by the disturbing image that his mind conjured.

"Jim, tell me, what's wrong." Moran demanded, more than a little worry detected in his voice.

"You…" Jim choked out. Moran fell silent at this. His mouth was drawn in a thin, tight line. He was obviously offended by this remark, Jim could sense it. Jim hadn't meant it like that; he wished he could finish his sentence but the words were caught in his throat. "Get up." Moran commanded sharply. The tone was harsh and strict, even though he was gripping Jim's arm and helping him up. Jim was unsteady on his feet and swayed a little. Moran helped him over to the couch in the living room, five feet away from the kitchen. It was the longest five feet Jim had ever ventured. Moran helped him onto the couch without saying a word, and after making sure Jim was settled, went back in the kitchen.

Jim's head was spinning. He wanted to yell for Moran to come back. He wanted to fix what he'd done but he couldn't.

He just couldn't.

Moran came back a few minutes later with breakfast. Jim almost sighed in relief. This angered him.

Jim was angry at himself. Angry that he cared so much. Angry that Moran's safety was the most important thing. Angry that Moran was his top priority.

It shouldn't be this way. He was a criminal. Moran was a killer. They shouldn't be having breakfast and cuddling and laughing and sleeping in and watching movies and going out for lunch and doing all those things that happy normal couples do. Their relationship shouldn't have been that healthy. It /wasn't/ healthy.

Jim hid for three years and the look in Moran's eyes showed him that things wouldn't be the same as they were before.

What Jim wouldn't give to go back and undo everything.

Jim didn't understand why he wanted things to be the same. He was aware of how toxic their relationship was, so why not just break it off? Why could he bring himself to do it? Why did he rebel against his conscience? Why was his heart the only thing ruling his head?

Oh, his heart.

Thats what it all came to in the end. Emotions. Unnecessary things that felt so good, that once he got the taste of them, he couldn't go back. He cringed at the thought. Having feelings. How horrid.

Yet beautiful.

Moran set the plate down on the table. Jim could feel the heat of the warm food from his spot on the couch. His stomach grumbled loudly, causing Moran to crack a smile. He forced it away, regaining his serious composition. Jim reached forward and shoveled the food into his mouth. "Hey, slow down! You're going to make yourself sick!"Jim slowed, glaring at Moran's nagging, even though he was feeling nauseous. He paled and his stomach lurched. "Damn. I hate it when you're right." he managed to say through strangled breaths. Moran reached over to steady him. "When was the last time you ate?" Jim shrugged. "Eating is boring and unnes-" He was cut off by a sharp pain in his stomach.

"Damn it, Jim! You come back from the dead just to drive me mad by dying again!" Jim winced but not from the pain. Moran handed him a bottle of water. "Drink. Slowly." Moran instructed. Jim brought it to his lips, letting the water trickle into his mouth, swallowing slowly. Moran took the bottle away once he finished. "Good. Now try eating again." Jim went slowly this time, meeting Moran's demands by eating all of it. He felt much better, still shaken from his earlier fright, but now his headache was gone. Moran rubbed his eyes and sat down next to Jim. "Want to tell me what happened earlier?" Jim shook his head. "Asking was just a formality, you are going to tell me."

Jim rubbed a hand down his own tired face. He didn't know why he let Moran boss him around like that. He could easily have him killed yet Moran looked far from scared. Maybe that was it. Jim was just a nightmare to everyone else, but to Moran, he was more than that.

"Almost every night for the past three years Ive gotten these… nightmares. And before you laugh at me like the idiot you are, let me tell you that they were so vivid, so realistic that I sometimes prayed for death, only to wake up."

Moran's amused smile dropped off his face. He moved closer to him. He reached out his hand and touched Jim's hand, testing the waters. Jim didn't threaten to beat him to a pulp so he took it as a sign that he was allowed to continue. He pulled Jim by the shoulders, towards him. Surprisingly, Jim moved easily, without complaint. Jim rested In Moran's arms, head resting against Moran's chest, His body settled against Moran's. "Tell me about them." Moran said, breathing in Jim's scent of sandalwood and lavender soap. Jim sighed. "Id rather not but I'm guessing that was a demand, not a request" Moran's chest vibrated with a tiny bit of laughter. "You're starting to catch on." Moran breathed into Jim's hair.

"Some nights, Its me being tortured, other nights its random horrors from the depths of my imagination and other nights its-" Jim stopped as if embarrassed, which could never happen.

"Its what?" Moran pushed, hoping to get every last bit of information that he could. Jim didn't really like talking about his thoughts (unless they were in bed and Jim wanted to "speed things up"), his emotions or himself , so when he did, Moran liked to squeeze out every drop of information he could get.

"Its you." Moran's heart fractured at this remark. He was so distraught that Jim's nightmares were about him.

"Oh. Well, if Im the cause of any of your problems you should tell me. If you don't want me here you should have said so." Jim tensed as if the idea was blasphemy.

"Goddamn! I can't- I didn't mean- I mean they are about you, my nightmares." Jim scolded himself for the way that sounded. "No! I mean my worst nightmares are about bad things happening to you."

Moran felt like he had the wind knocked out of him. He knew Jim felt strongly for him but this was something entirely different.

"But in the kitchen?"

"I smelled smoke. The last nightmare I had, involved you being burned alive. I- I couldn't…" He trailed off. Moran had heard everything he needed to hear. He pushed the consulting criminal away from his chest. Jim looked perplexed as he turned to face Moran. " Seb, what are you d-?" Moran moved toward him quickly, kissing him and pushing Jim's back against the armrest. Jim was so startled that it took a few seconds to realize what was happening and reciprocate the kiss. Moran couldn't begin to describe how amazing it felt to kiss Jim like that. His lips lush against Morans, his fingers tangled in Moran's hair, his body, so close, but still so far away.

Moran was the one who stopped them. Jim looked annoyed but grudgingly respected Moran's decision of no sex. They sat there, Moran stroked Jim's hair until he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
